


Holding You Closer (cause you are my heaven)

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 + 1, 5 Times, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Puns & Word Play, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26338981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Hermione keeps losing her balance around Draco Malfoy, but luckily he's always there to catch her when she falls (aka 5 times Draco catches Hermione 1 time she catches him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Holding You Closer (cause you are my heaven)

Hermione took a moment to consider what her mother would say if she saw her like this — hair tied up and back in a bandana, shoes kicked off next to the door and shirt sleeves roughly pushed up to her elbows — and continued with her plan anyway. The dust lay thick on the shelves of this small cupboard, tucked away in the Ministry of Magic Archive, and it clung to Hermione's hands and feet as she climbed higher.

"There you are," Hermione said to the small amber comb resting on a stand, rising up on her toes to pluck it from it's confines.

Then she was falling.

Her stomach lurched, mouth opened to scream and—

A grunt of effort as she was caught echoed in her mind for a moment, feet kicking out as she clung to her rescuer, heartbeat loud in her ears.

"Fancy seeing you again, Granger."

Hermione felt her cheeks explode into plumes of heat, old feelings she had never quite managed to ignore reigniting in her chest like a bonfire as she reflexively scowled up into the grinning face of Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, Malfoy," she replied as primly as she could — her mother's lectures ringing in her ears and Hermione resolved to never mention this to her — stumbling slightly as Malfoy placed her back on the ground, his hand steadying her on her hip.

"Here." Malfoy crouched and picked up the comb. He turned it around in his hands for a moment before passing it back to her. "The colour suits you. See you around, Granger."

Hermione wordlessly accepted the comb — goosebumps erupting down her arms as their fingertips brushed — and watched him move back out of the cupboard, a file tucked beneath one arm.

"Oh dear," she whispered to the empty air.

⁂

"Should have taken the trolley," Hermione grumbled to herself as she weaved through the press of the crowd, swaying with the shift of the boxes she carried. Her shoes clicked against the floor, a steady drumbeat in time with the burning in her arms, every fibre of her being focused on getting to the office — a small room with a single window but it was hers and she was fiercely proud of that fact.

She peeked round the box and adjusted her course slightly as if she was caught in a conversation, she would likely scream from frustration. The day had already been long and the hours ahead of her stretched out as if they would never end. She didn't see the edge of the rucked up carpet — one of the Heritage Departments recent acquisitions, a horrid thing in bright striped lime green — until her foot impacted the corner and the world fell away from her.

"I believe we need to stop meeting like this, Granger."

"Malfoy," Hermione sighed, the exasperation in her tone warring with the fluttering of her heart. She had grown used to seeing him in the corner of her vision around the Ministry, exchanging greetings when their paths crossed, and everytime her heart would beat slightly faster. It was nothing more than a schoolgirl crush but it passed the time in the long boring meetings.

"Here." Malfoy steadied her before he moved away to pick up one of her boxes, her skin feeling colder from the absence of his touch, before passing it to her, and picking up the other — the larger of the two. "I'll walk with you, if you can restrain yourself from falling over in that time."

"I'll try my best," Hermione retorted, raising her chin in defiance even as she grinned despite herself, watching a small smile unfurl across his.

⁂

The cold air was a balm on her fevered skin as Hermione let out a long sigh, tipping her face upwards to feel the faint mist splatter on her cheeks. Her head was comfortably fuzzy, a sign that turning down the next glass of champagne had been a good one, and she watched the distant streetlights like golden fireflies flickering on and off. The noise of the party swelled behind her — a celebration for a retirement, or maybe a promotion? She couldn't recall at the moment, as all her thoughts turned towards her warm bed and Crookshanks waiting by the door for her with the latest of his kittens.

Her foot hit the edge of the step she was unsteadily climbing down, and she was falling before she even realised what was happening.

"Hello again, Granger." Malfoy shifted his grip to her waist, keeping her upright as he took another drag from his cigarette, sweet smelling smoke blown into vibrant plumes in the night air.

"That's a terrible habit," Hermione told him, looping an arm around his waist to steady herself as she pulled at the buckle of her heel. Dull flashes of pain alerted her that she had possibly pulled something in her rush to get back home, not wanting to wait to finally extract Frieda from her conversation with her most recent infatuation.

"It really is," Malfoy sighed, stubbing it out into a nearby bin. She could see pink bloom high on his cheekbones, but he didn't move away from her.

"Were you heading out as well?" Hermione finally managed to pull one of her shoes off before beginning to unpick the other buckle.

"I was. Lucky for you I was here." A slight grin slipped across his face as Hermione clicked her tongue at him, prompting a bark of laughter.

"My knight in shining armour," she sighed, "How were you going to get home?"

"The Floo but it's—"

"Down for maintenance and the Knight Bus will be packed," Hermione finished, "Come on, gallant protector, you can stay at mine. I don't live far."

"Are you sure?" Malfoy, although if he was going to sleep on her sofa she should really get used to calling him Draco, asked, already falling back into step with her, arm reflexively offered to her as she stumbled.

"I do have a cat," Hermione warned him, looping her arm through his.

"Yes, I remember. Crookshanks?"

"Yes!" Hermione beamed at him, and was delighted when he grinned back, almost shly.

⁂

"What's with that look?"

"What look?" Draco tried to school his features into blissful innocence, but Hermione could see right through him. She readjusted the file held in her arms to bump him with her hip, giggling as he stumbled slightly.

"I'm just wondering what you will fling yourself off of in this lift," Draco remarked, tone deceptively light as Hermione scowled at him.

"Rude. And, anyway, the lift is faster."

Draco's only response was to roll his eyes, but he still obligingly reached over to press the button for her — warmth flooded in Hermione's chest when she realised she hadn't even needed to tell him where she was going. It was the little things that she found she appreciated the most in their relationship, new but steady.

The doors chimed as the lift entered another floor, opening onto a scene of chaos. Building supplies floated in endless crisscrossing chains across a pitted floor. Sections of the walls lay bare exposing the framing and soft insulation within. The lift doors closed and it continued to climb through the floors, numbers flicking past with soft mechanical clicks.

When it jerked to a stop, it almost wasn't a surprise to Hermione to find herself over-balanced, stumbling and falling into Draco's waiting arms.

"I knew it," he exclaimed gleefully, bending down to kiss Hermione's forehead, setting her back on her feet before kissing her properly, toes curling and sparks radiating down her spine.

⁂

"Are we nearly there yet?"

Draco checked his watch — a slim silver piece given to him by his mother, silent approval in the small smile she had given Hermione. "We still have three hours to go."

Hermione groaned, knocking her head back against the seatrest, glancing sideways at the scenery rushing past the window, snow topped trees sprouting out of featureless white fields, almost indistinguishable from the scene when they first left London hours ago.

"You have a massive book to read," Draco reminded her, gesturing towards the large tome — Witnesses to the Second Restoration of Werewolves in Magical Society — resting on the table in front of them.

"I finished it already."

"You finished it already." Draco nodded slowly, not surprised but resigned to that fact. "And I take it you have already finished the book I brought."

Hermione nodded glumly, sinking down into her seat with a pout.

"There was a shop further down the compartments, wasn't there?" Draco asked, tucking Hermione's head beneath his chin, pressing a kiss to her curls.

"I shouldn't keep buying books," Hermione said, her words slow and reluctant, only half aimed at convincing herself.

"You deserve a treat," Draco countered, a knowing grin on his face, "I know Ministry meetings weren't what either of us wanted for our vacation, but you haven't complained."

"Fine, I have been convinced," Hermione laughed, kissing Draco quickly before she used him to stand up, squeezing carefully passed his tucked in legs and climbing over their joint pile of bags that had fallen into the small gap between the seats and the aisle.

A sudden jolt dislodged her footing, sending Hermione crashing backwards onto Draco, who was ready to catch her as always.

"Hello again," Draco chuckled, carefully settling Hermione back on her feet again, and holding onto her hand until she had climbed back into the aisle on steadier feet.

⁂

Hermione smoothed her hands over her wedding dress again and again, impatience coursing through her veins like lightning. It was going to be a blended mix of Muggle tradition and Magical — a lovely metaphor of their lives coming together, Mrs Weasley had remarked and Hermione had caught sight of both her mother and Mrs Malfoy nodding along with her. Hermione knew the plan, could recite it in her sleep, had recited it to Draco on more than one occasion much to his amusement.

Just one walk with her father and her mother, after Draco had walked down with his mother, and then she and Draco would walk down the aisle together. As the music swelled, Hermione picked up her bouquet — paper roses mingled with soft red and white blooms — and prayed to every deity out there, that she would make it down the aisle without falling over.

"Ready?" Her father's voice trembled, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes, her mother next to him with a wide smile on her face.

"Ready."

Hermione walked down the aisle with her head held high, her attention focused on Draco — handsome in his grey suit — and she couldn't be happier.

"You look beautiful," Draco whispered, taking her arm in his, squeezing her hand quickly.

"You look very handsome," Hermione told him, and they began walking once again. She was close enough to see the flash of surprise in his eyes as his foot hit a steeper section of the slight incline, and he began to fall.

Hermione caught him, roses crushed in her haste releasing their sweet perfume around them.

"I guess you're falling for me," Hermione said with a wink, as Draco regained his footing, flush high on his cheeks.

"Always have been," Draco told her, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, grinning against her skin. "Shall we continue, Mrs Granger-Malfoy?"

"Nothing I'd like more, Mr Granger-Malfoy."


End file.
